


Faith

by Crazyhotsoup



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur Whump, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Chapter 5: Guarma (Red Dead Redemption 2), Character Death, Drabble, Explosions, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:41:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25864537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazyhotsoup/pseuds/Crazyhotsoup
Summary: Explosions shook the ground and Arthur looked towards the source.The ship had cannons.The fucking ship had cannons.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	Faith

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Darling_Jack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darling_Jack/gifts).



> Thanks to Darling_Jack for help naming it! They're such an amazing author! Go check them out!
> 
> Canon divergence, but that much is evident

They were surrounded. That much Arthur knew. 

He ran down the stairs after Dutch, shooting Fusar's men as he went. Dutch turned down another set and he followed. Even when his lungs burned and screamed at him to stop, he followed Dutch along the landing and out onto another wall. 

Arthur shot men left and right, ducking behind barrels and boxes. Avoiding bullets that were spraying into the stones around them. 

"Com' on, Arthur!" He sucked in a deep breath and pushed after Dutch. 

Explosions shook the ground and Arthur looked towards the source. 

The ship had cannons. 

The fucking ship had cannons.

"Dutch-" 

"I know, Arthur."

He looked up at Dutch and swallowed down his fear. _Dutch wanted him to do this. He had to be strong._

Arthur peaked out from his cover and took careful aim.

Explosions of fine red mist sprayed towards Arthur, being whipped towards him by the wind.

The cannons rotated and Arthur watched in horror as sand exploded skyward from the impact. He turned and ran towards the broken wall.

"Get do-" A cannonball ripped through the crates behind him and pain bloomed in his belly. The words caught in his throat as he collapsed into the sand.

The world around him rushed into a ceaseless roar.

He tried to blink away the blurry film slowly covering his vision and felt his face rub against the fine sand.

Sand. It would get in his clothes, and then the girls would have to wash it out. That would be a pain in the ass.

Boots stopped in front of his face.

Worn-in, dark brown leather, nearly black. Familiar boots.

He sucked in a wet gasp and sagged into the sand.

Hands worried over his hairline, and they were gone just as quickly.

Arthur laid in the sand, gut burning. Why? He didn't remember eating anything that could've been bad.

_"Don't move, Arthur." Hosea's words were firm. He had stupidly stepped out onto the frozen lake._

__

_"Watch me, Arthur." One step at a time, he approached Hosea. The older man's face a placid mask. He froze as the ice cracked beneath his boot._

__

_Hosea grabbed him before he could plunge into the icy water. He held Arthur's face against his shirt, worrying over his hair and not letting him turn around to look into the lake._

Arthur frowned at the memory and tried to rise up in the sand. He didn't want Dutch to fight on his own. He wanted to be there for the older man.

"-op it, Arthur. Stop." He shook his head as the roar quieted. Sound rushed into his ears and he collapsed back in the sand, gut still burning with firey heat.

Dutch's face appeared in front of his own. Arthur looked at the man, seeing his curly hair loose against the sand.

"Hosea ok, Dutch?" He hadn't seen him during the fight.

"Yes, my boy, he is fine. We need to get you up, Arthur." Arthur let Dutch raise him slowly. He tried to look down at himself as he felt something shift in his stomach. Dutch caught his jaw in his hand and forced his head upward. "No, Arthur, Look at me."

"I'm fine, Dutch." Even to his own ears, the words came out slurred. The older man walked him towards the low stone wall, the very one he had been trying to take cover behind.

_Where was Johnny?_

"He's fine, Arthur. You're gonna be fine too." Arthur leaned against Dutch as the older man practically dragged him through the sand.

_His stomach hurt. Why did it hurt?_

He looked down and felt his legs give out.

A long piece of jagged wood was sticking straight through his gut.

His breathing quicked and he recognized the foreign taste in his mouth as blood.

"Arthur, Arthur, calm down son, you're going to be alright, we just need to sit you down." He didn't hear Dutch as he raised one hand and pressed it against the torn skin still pulled forward by the debris.

It didn't hurt. Not as bad as he thought it would've.

"Dutch?" His vision was swimming.

He wasn't going to survive. He had seen fellas who had died from significantly less. Something was wrong with him, the sun and dehydration just escalated it. But Dutch needed his strong arm, he needed his brick wall of a son.

"I don't wanna die like this, Dutch. 

The older man dropped to his knees, grabbing Arthur's shoulders to steady him.

"You're gonna be fine, son. Hercule will fix you up. You'll see. Then you'll be alright."

His vision was fading fast, his breaths became pained and he sagged into Dutch's arms.

"I'm gonna die, Dutch." Dutch tried to shush him. "I-I want you to take my body back and have Ms. Adler take it into-"

"Arthur. You. Are. Not. Going. To. Die." He coughed weakly onto Dutch's ruined dress shirt and shook his head.

"Might as well get something for me. I made peace with death long time ago." His breathing was heavy and laboured, as if he had just run up the length of the beach.

"No, son."

"Tell John, tell him that I love him. And everyone else too."

"Arthur, stop it. You are going to be fine."

"No I ain't, Dutch. Look at me, I'm bleeding everywhere. There's a goddamn board sticking out of my stomach." He could practically taste the sweat on Dutch as he spoke, mouth pressed against his shirt and open vest. "Just, just don't do anything stupid, Dutch. Let Abi and John leave if they want to. Just don't do anything stupid."

"Stop talking like you're dying." Dutch's words were frantic. He let out a weak laugh and ignored the way his stomach pinched.

"All your years, Dutch. All them men you killed, and you can't tell when I'm bleeding out?" He felt impossibly cold. Colder than he ever felt in Colter.

"You're gonna be fine, Arthur." He shivered in Dutch's arms.

That was it. He was going to die in Dutch's arms, just like he started, really started his life. He was just a scared little boy. A boy Dutch scooped up out of the streets. A boy who was ten times more feral than Johnny had ever been. It took ten times as much work to fix him up.

"Just don't do anything stupid, Dutch." He shivered against Dutch and let out his final shaky breath.


End file.
